


Budgie

by jscribbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean - Freeform, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Human!, M/M, One Shot, Romance, castiel - Freeform, castiel/jo - Freeform, dean/cas - Freeform, human!Cas, jo/cas, my writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13964991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jscribbles/pseuds/jscribbles
Summary: Weeks after the angels fall, Team Free Will spend some time at a bar to have some fun. Dean learns that Castiel has been feeling human long before his grace had been taken when Castiel confesses something he'd never told anyone about before.





	Budgie

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Budgie  
> Author: jscribbles  
> Pairing: Pre-Dean/Cas (Active) with discussed Cas/Jo, mentioned Cas/Meg and one sided Dean/Jo  
> Spoilers: 8x23, canon-compliant  
> Rating: PG  
> Warning: Swearing  
> Genre: Angst, Romance, Fluff  
> Word count: Approx. 3500  
> Summary: Weeks after the angels fall, Team Free Will spend some time at a bar to have some fun. Dean learns that Castiel has been feeling human long before his grace had been taken when Castiel confesses something he'd never told anyone about before.  
> A/N: I wrote this because I was having major writer's block. This was a 'pick a floating plot bunny and write about it because god damn it, you aren't writing about anything else.' There was no outline or purpose. I just really liked the idea of Castiel having a crush on someone. I hope you guys enjoy my little writing exercise.

Soft, slow country music played through the room, lyrics barely audible over the sound of low rumbles of conversation, the clicking of pool cues against marble, and the thunks and clinks of glasses against table tops. Even though Dean hated country music for the most part, he didn't mind it much tonight, even going as far as to almost enjoy it. It filled the room with warmth, with a homey comfort that came with these little dingy truck stop bars. They smelt like smoke and wood, like cheap whiskey and beer. Maybe Dean was just enjoying it because he was kind of happy for once. Of course he had problems and the fallen angels were still high on his priority list, but Cas needed to adjust to humanity and Sam was starting to feel better so he let himself and his family have a couple days off. He let them drag him out and he let them all enjoy a simple good time.  
  
Castiel's knee was a warm, stable pressure against his own leg under the table. Dean could feel his fingers brush against Cas' whenever he slid his hand across the table to lift his drink to his lips. Castiel sipped quietly at Dean's side as they both watched Sam across the bar.  
  
Dean's lips curled up into a fond smile, his heart fluttering happily as he watched his brother grin shyly and shrug, looking coyly across at his new female companion as she said something funny to him.  
  
They knew he was nervous – Sam kept dragging his finger down the side of his beer, drawing small designs with shaking fingers. Not only was this the first time he'd flirted with a girl since Amelia -- hell, since seeing Sarah die, but it was the first time he'd attempted to socialize with anyone since he'd started recovering from the incomplete third trial. They were all getting used to the changes the past month or so had brought to them.  
  
Hell, Castiel had only  _just_ left the bunker a couple days ago. As a matter of fact, he had only stepped out of his room for the first time two weeks ago. He'd been in a sort of catatonic state for the first couple of days after his fall; didn't speak, did do any explaining, didn't move, or eat.  
  
He'd just shown up later the night of the Fall, at the bunker door just as the last of the angels flew across the sky, with dirt in his nails and stained into the knees of his trousers, with tear trails streaked down his face. It had taken Dean a good five minutes to pry Castiel's fingers away from his jacket, to unwrap his arms around him as the new human shook, going into shock.  
  
Dean looked over at Castiel, watching him watch his brother. He seemed all right now. He spoke more. He still hated walking everywhere but that would just take some adjusting. His hair was messy and a bit longer, curling around his ears and sweeping across his forehead just above his eyebrows. There was colour to his skin now which was a relief. Dean had been getting tired of being worried about Castiel, tired of needing to remind him to eat, to sleep. He was tired of seeing no colour to Cas' skin because it had all drained out, because he was exhausted or having those moments where he'd just space out and look tormented.  
  
More or less, life was starting to get easier. Sam was getting better, stronger. He was smiling more, getting back to being the little brother and the best friend Dean hadn't seen in years. Castiel was talking more, moving more, doing more on his own, embracing the human he had the potential to be. It was just the beginning and he still had rough times ahead, but Dean was so pleased to see their lives improving.  
  
He looked back at Sam, whose grin widened as his new friend rested her hand on his knee and leaned in to talk into his ear. Her dark, curly black hair tickled his face.  
  
Dean leaned back in his chair and sighed, relishing in the buzz, letting the warm, tingling feeling in his face spread through his body. He probably was red a bit like Cas, who had three drinks in his stomach, a pink flush spread across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose.  
  
This was bar trip number three in the past week. Cas had taken a liking to rum and cokes, and secretly Dean had taken a liking to drinking with Castiel. It was weird having him around when there was no imminent peril, neither of them was angry at the other, and they had nothing really to do. But it was also... nice. Dean thought maybe this might be the life he had in mind when he'd said he wanted a normal life, a home. His own bedroom, his car, his brother, and his best friend.  
  
Sam let himself be dragged near the ancient looking jukebox. Dean watched Sam blush and halfheartedly try to refuse a dance, but the girl slid her arm around his waist. Sam shot Dean a look over her shoulder, looking sheepish, maybe a bit embarrassed like he expected Dean to mock him. Instead, Dean smiled crookedly at him and winked. Sam relaxed, smiled, and wrapped his arms around her.  
  
“Atta boy, Sam,” Dean murmured, sipping from his pint. He looked away and focused on Castiel, who was still watching Sam with a strange, faraway look in his eye. Dean nudged him under the table with his leg and raised his eyebrows when Cas jumped and turned his head.  
  
“What's up, Cas? You're spacing out.”  
  
Castiel blinked slowly at Dean – yeah, he was kind of drunk – and then shook his head, peering down wistfully into his dark drink, swirling it slowly. They both watched the ice swirl around the glass, clinking quietly. Then Castiel said in a whisper, “You don't want to know.”  
  
Dean groaned. He adjusted in his seat and frowned at Cas. “Well, now I don't. But you know I'm going to ask anyway, so might as well just tell me what's up.”  
  
Castiel slid is elbow onto the table and rested his forehead on his hand, eyelashes fluttering as he turned his blue eyes back down, staring into his drink.  
  
“I was wondering what happened to Meg.”  
  
He replied almost half-heartedly, voice monotone as if he wasn't even interested, but Dean recognized the sadness, the resignation in his voice. Clearly Castiel had been dying to know for a long time. Or rather, dying to confirm the answer he probably already knew was true.  
  
Dean exhaled slowly, staring back at Sam as he spun the girl around, watched them both laughing when she bumped into the couple beside them. The girl was paler, athletic looking with long dark curls tumbling down her back. Dean realized where the inspiration for Castiel's question had come from. He looked back at Castiel and replied in low tones.  
  
“She's dead, Cas.”  
  
He didn't know what was worse; that Castiel was hurt but trying to hide it, or that Castiel was hurt at all.  
  
No, what was worse was the way he tried to make his voice sound nonchalant even though Dean saw, in the way he suddenly shoved his shaking hands between his legs, that he was effected.  
  
“I figured,” Castiel murmured. “When you didn't mentioned her again afterwards, I figured.”  
  
Dean nodded slowly, clearing his throat. “Crowley got her. I saw it. Cas, if it makes you feel any better, she went down on our side. We got away because of her.”  
  
“That does make me feel better,” Castiel rasped, nodding. Dean saw plain as day that he was lying out of his teeth. He watched Cas drink slowly from his glass, afterwards wiping his hand across his mouth, letting it linger. Dean told himself the shine in Cas' eyes were from the alcohol.  
  
“You really had it sweet for her, huh?” Dean asked conversationally, though his stomach squeezed a bit inexplicably.  
  
Castiel seemed to take a moment to swallow a lump in his throat before he made himself look at Dean and shrug. “Perhaps. It was a unique understand that we hand, Meg and I.”  
  
As desperate as Dean was to pry, to find out just how unique the understanding had been - for his own selfish reasons - he let it go and attempted to lighten the conversation with a chuckle.  
  
“It's fine, Cas,” he said with humour, “First crushes are always kinda weird and unexpected.”  
  
It was Castiel's turn to chuckle. Dean's heart jumped happily for a second at the success of his cheering up. Castiel even used air quotes correctly this time. “She wasn't my first 'crush', Dean. There was... someone else. Before.”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Dean challenged, grinning slightly. Without much thought, he blurted out, “You mean other than me?”  
  
As soon as the words tumbled out from his lips, Dean's stomach squeezed and he felt like he was going to vomit. The joke hadn't come out sounding like a joke. In his almost-drunk state, he wasn't even sure if it was a joke at all and that made him feel even more sick with confusion.  
  
Castiel blushed and his eyes jerked away, darting around the room for a moment as they both leaned away awkwardly. But he saved them both by looking back at Dean and clearing his throat. “I wasn't talking about you.”  
  
Dean relaxed, though only slightly. Castiel hadn't exactly said 'no'.  
  
However, Dean didn't have much time to dwell on that, because what Castiel said next nearly floored him.  
  
“It was Jo,” Castiel said abruptly, finishing his drink and setting it aside. He leaned on the table and frowned at Dean, perhaps trying to distract him from the blush that further deepened the colouring of his cheeks.  
  
So shocked, Dean laughed. He laughed so hard he choked a bit and beat on his chest to clear his airway.  
  
“What? You... you had a crush on Jo?  _You?_  I mean...  _Jo?_ ” Dean chuckled and raised his eyebrows. “But you were all-” he deepened his voice dramatically, “ _'Tomorrow we face the devil. This is our last night on earth'_ back then. I mean, you were 'Cas' but I mean you were still kind of Robo Cop-like back then. Stoic and shit. I would've never thought...”  
  
Most guys would've blushed at this point, looked embarrassed or humiliated, but Castiel just stared thoughtfully down at the table. He ran a fingernail over a groove in the wood.  
  
“Her soul was very bright. There was something about her that I felt for. It was a soft feeling, one of comfort, warmth,” Castiel mused, his voice gentle, almost longing. “Nothing like my feelings for Meg. Meg was... darkness. She had a relatable quality to her that came with being a supernatural being in a human world and not knowing our place. We gravitated towards each other because of this.”  
  
Dean sat quietly, listening. Alcohol buzzed through his body, making him warm and light in his chair. But he felt cold deep in the pit of his stomach, because this was the first time he was actually understanding for a moment was it was like to be Castiel. The former angel never spoke about his feelings, never about his feelings about anything outside of Dean and the Winchesters' world.  
  
Suddenly Dean felt horribly guilty, suddenly aware that Castiel had a world outside of Dean, Dean's issues, and Sam's issues. Suddenly aware that he'd never cared to understand that Castiel might've had a life outside of the Winchesters that involved feelings and thoughts, doubts and sadness. Of course Dean had known that Cas had a life, but due to some selfish sense of entitlement he'd never acknowledged before, he hadn't actually thought about Castiel's life outside of his usefulness.  
  
Cas went on, staring at Sam and his companion, seeing but not watching, his mind elsewhere. Dean watched Castiel's face, almost overwhelm by the sadness.  
  
“Jo smiled at me across the table that night before Carthage. Something about me lit her up. She shone so much more brightly. I... I heard her heart beat faster and I heard her joy even though she hadn't laughed or spoke.” Cas' voice hitched and for that moment they both held their breaths, suspended in the moment he'd painted, “I think I felt for her because she enjoyed me as an individual. That... that was the first time I'd actually felt as if I had a personality worth knowing. I was not useful to Jo at all but she wanted me there all the same. I didn't need to read her thoughts to know this.”  
  
“Holy shit, Cas,” Dean whispered, only half aware that he'd done so. “I had no idea.”  
  
Castiel looked up and blinked. Slowly, he smiled and shook his head. “You can stop staring at me like that, Dean. I wasn't in love with her. I knew her only for a moment in time.”  
  
Dean exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He lifted his hands in a shrug. “Yeah, but ... God, I feel like an ass saying this, but I didn't know you could feel that way. Back then, I mean. You just seemed like...”  
  
Castiel watched Dean struggle for a moment, then added with a small smile, “Like a hammer?”  
  
“What? No!”  
  
“Robo-Cop?”  
  
“Look, Cas. I just meant --”  
  
Castiel ignored him and accepted a new drink as the waitress placed it down on the table. He shrugged his shoulders and quietly confessed, “I know you blamed me for her and Ellen's deaths.”  
  
Dean silenced himself immediately, aborting his attempt to take a drink from a fresh pint. He swallowed thickly and tried to control his expression though he knew his face darkened. Almost four years later and he still didn't want to talk about the way they died.  
  
Castiel set his glass down and crossed his arms across his chest, looking small. “I blamed myself too. No one made me feel more pathetic for walking into Lucifer's trap than I did. For weeks afterwards I was plagued by Jo and the memory her magnificent, bright soul. Even though I knew that soul only for a day, I felt like everything after her death was darker. I felt... That was the first time I'd felt sadness as a human. Well, near-human. It was awful. I couldn't shake it and every time I would see you and Sam the blame was there in your eyes. I didn't feel better for a very long time.”  
  
Dean wanted to tell Cas to shut up. For so many reasons he wanted him to stop talking. Dean missed Jo and Ellen every day. He didn't need to know Cas was hurting about it still too. He didn't  _want_  to know. A small part of him, a very small, irrational part of him still wanted to blame Cas for their deaths, despite all reason. And there was also that part of him that was jealous. He felt it, strong and fiercely. He was jealous of Castiel for feeling these things for Jo. Dean had also had feelings for Jo. He'd tried to push them down, push them away, make excuses about her being a stupid little sister, but he knew. He was also jealous of Jo for... for... Dean raised a glass to his lips and drank deeply. That last one was a bit too much for him to process right now.  
  
“The night before Carthage she had held my hand. Everyone was headed to bed and I was standing by the window, watching the yard. She stood beside me in the dark and took my hand. She took it for no reason other than she wanted to hold it. It was bizarre. She _wanted_ to touch me. There was no necessity to it. Or maybe there was, perhaps she got comfort from it.”  
  
Dean's stomach roiled with jealousy, twisted with a bit of sadness.  
  
“The next morning, before everyone had woken, she came to me again. She touched my face and my hair. Jo kissed me that morning and do you know what she said afterwards? She said, 'Good luck today, budgie.'" Castiel snapped out of his reverie and looked up at Dean, frowning. “She wished me good luck. I still don't know what a budgie is.”  
  
Dean smiled slowly, his heart swelling for Jo. He set aside jealously and let himself laugh. Dean laughed and shook his head, chuckling. “She was such a freakin' weirdo.”  
  
Castiel found himself grinning too. “Yeah. She was.”  
  
“I guess I could see why she'd like you. You're kinda weird too.”  
  
Trying to look annoyed, Castiel tilted his head and squinted his eyes but with a goofy grin on his face he looked more deranged than anything. The facial expression had Dean suddenly laughing.  
  
“See? You probably made that face at her and she just couldn't help herself,” Dean commented, grinning. In addition, he teased, “I mean, I would totally be into it right now but you already told me you never had a crush on me so forget about it. I mean, I'm kind of a big de--”  
  
Castiel sat up straighter, frowning in a way that he usually reserved for apocalyptic type subject matter. It made Dean stop short and stare back, frowning.  
  
Slowly, Cas shook his head and said, “I never had a 'crush' on you. Dean, there isn't a word for how I feel about you. There are no words, no language complex enough to express how magnificent your soul is, how much you mean to me.”  
  
Stunned into silence, the two men stared at each other, hands limp around their glasses. Dean's skin buzzed and felt warm. He knew he should be in full fledged panic. He knew he should stop this before it started, whatever 'this' was. A part of him was in full fledged panic, but there was also the part of him that was so relieved. Maybe it was that part of him that was jealous of Jo for that unspoken reason. That part that had flared up when Castiel had confessed to been kissed by Jo, that she'd touched his face and his hand for no other reason than just to touch.  
  
Reflexively, Dean's hand reached out and brushed against Cas', their knuckles bumping. It wasn't romantic or soft. It was kind of clumsy. Cas jumped and Dean started, looking shocked at himself. He snatched up his glass hastily.  
  
“Well, good. 'cause lately people who have crushes on me end up hurt or dying,” he joked, taking a nervous swig from his beer. “I mean, it could be worse. I could be like Sam and kill everyone I sleep with.”  
  
After a moments pause, Castiel offered lightly, “I've already died a couple of times so I think we're safe.”  
  
Dean unexpectedly laughed and beer shot out of his nose. Castiel hummed with laughter and handed Dean a small square napkin from the centre of their table. Dean accepted it from him, their fingers brushing, and chuckled.  
  
“What are you trying to say, Cas?”  
  
Castiel smiled softly, his shoulders shrugging again. “I'm just pointing out you don't have to worry about me.”  
  
Dean lowered his drink and set it down on the table, his eyes locked on Castiel's. He found himself mirroring his smile. Quietly, he replied playfully, “Good thing you're not the boss of me. I'll worry about you all I want. Not because you're useful, but just because I want to. Capiche, budgie?”  
  
Castiel smiled, feeling Dean's leg press closer to his under the table. He rested his forehead on his hand and nodded, murmuring contently, “Capiche.”


End file.
